


And The Angels Proclaim

by acemusic



Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn, The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Graphic Violence, I'm Sorry, explicit sexual assault, you can probably guess what's going to happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acemusic/pseuds/acemusic
Summary: Ivy Atkinson is a 19 year old bartender with a wooden prosthetic arm who has taken up a non-sexual job in the Red Rat. One fateful night, though, she has an encounter that does not exactly fit the job description.ON HIATUS, INDEFINITELY. I AM CURRENTLY LEARNING HOW TO WRITE MORE MATURE THEMES; I WILL CONTINUE WITH THIS WORK ONCE I GAIN A BETTER GRASP AT PROPERLY WRITING WITH THIS TOPIC.
Relationships: Edward Hyde/Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	And The Angels Proclaim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moon_hedgehog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/gifts).

> To moon_hedgehog:
> 
> Thanks for being so supportive of me since day one!! I wrote this with you in mind in hopes of impressing you :3

"They say we may not pass this way again, so let's waste no more time! Bring on the men!~"

Ivy Atkinson clapped from her spot within the Red Rat's bar. Miss Harris' voice was truly unmatched by even the greatest opera singers from Italy at the time. Sure, they could hit the beautiful high notes, but the spotlight singer from this "coffee house" had this beautiful, deep voice that could rival a man's, and the belting ability of a classically trained lady. As the band hit their blasting final notes, the men at the tables in the music hall clapped and cheered wildly, tossing money at the girls and whistling. A smirk crossed Ivy's lips as they did so; Miss Harris' singing and body always got their attention easily.

Funny enough, though, there was one man who was not standing, nor clapping. In fact, he was making no noise at all, it seemed. Hell, he wasn't even looking at her! The man's dark gaze, as a matter of fact, was upon-

Her.

Ivy swallowed upon the realization that this man, in all his handsome glory, was staring at _her._ And she was staring back. 

Ivy swiftly looked back down at the glass she was polishing. The wooden arm that was jointed into her severed elbow stuck out in the corner of her eye like a sore thumb. She winced. It had only been four years since her arm had been severed in a horrible carriage accident; thus, having no money and living on her own, she was forced to fashion her own replacement limb using wood and a hell of a lot of broken hammers. Somehow, she managed to automate the piece of wood that replaced her arm, allowing her to fully function with it; even if the wood was a constant reminder of her scars and injuries.

Upon the sound of dress fabric rustling against bar stools, Ivy looked up with her signature smirk. Miss Harris, Nellie, and Lizzie had taken their spots at the counter top, chattering away about the men that had just passed them by. "The usual, girls?" Ivy asked, lowering a bottle of pinot noir off the highest shelf. Red wine, Ivy had always said, was the best way to celebrate a well-performed song.

"Y'know us so well, Ivy!" Miss Harris laughed as the bartender poured three drinks in succession, sliding them to each girl with the flourish of a dancer in the ballet.

"You're lucky the Spider doesn't put you up here with the rest of us, Ivy." Nellie rolled her eyes as she took a swig of her glass. "Lord knows he probably thinks a wooden arm is unattractive."

"Which, by the way, is a stupid thought!" Lizzie butted in, slamming her fist on the counter top. Ivy flinched, quickly moving the bottle of red wine away to avoid any accidents. "You probably have the prettiest face in the Red Rat altogether!"

"You wound me, Lizzie, you really do."

"Oh, come on, Lucy, I wasn't insulting you!"

"Yes, yes, I know. She ain't wrong, though, Ives. You probably do have the best looks of the ‘ole place." Miss Harris ruffled Ivy's dirty brunette locks, the latter giggling as it was done. Miss Harris was probably just saying this because Ivy was the youngest one to work in the Red Rat so far. After all, she was only 19.

"Enough of that, Miss Harris." Ivy giggled, putting out her upturned palm expectantly. "As Miss Gwenny says, we don't do this work for charity!"

Miss Harris let out a harsh croak of a laugh. "You're beginning to sound just like her, love." Still, she tossed a few coins onto the counter, which Ivy quickly swept up in case of thieves. A few whistles sounded over in the corner of the music hall. Miss Harris sighed. "That sounds like our cue, Ives. See ya in the mornin'." The three girls sat up from their bar stools and walked over to the patrons who'd called for them.

"See ya, wouldn't want to be ya, ladies!" Ivy called out lightheartedly. Lizzie sent a friendly glance over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs with the man who'd rented her out for the night. Her line of vision was quickly blocked up by the Spider walking to the bar.

"Lovely evening, Ivy. You've been working a storm tonight." The Spider greeted Ivy, who nodded in return. "Pretty sure every man tonight has been at your bar, and tipping you quite generously, I must add. Well done." Ivy smirked.

"Just doing my job, sir."

"Well, you're doing a bloody fine job of it. You can leave early tonight, if you want. Not right now, though," Spider put a hand up as Ivy opened her mouth. Damn. "There's still a few patrons here tonight, and we want to make sure that they've been satisfied as many ways as possible before they leave."

Ivy grimaced. There was always extra work, despite the amount of money she raked in with her looks. But Ivy did not mind for the most part, as she contented herself with knowing that she was not to have her body sold to a single patron in this brothel. "Of course, Spider."

Her boss smiled in reply. "Good." He exited the music hall without another word. The girl sighed and turned her back to the rest of the hall, cleaning a few of the used glasses from the night's occurrences.

Ivy’s back was still turned when she heard the sound of someone sitting at the bar stool nearby and knock on the counter top. Her eyes still focused on the glass she was polishing, she turned her head slightly, backing towards the separating counter so both her and the patron could hear each other better. “What’ll it be, sir?” Ivy asked, assuming that it was not one of the working girls; any of them who were still awake were probably doing their job in their rooms.

An icy hand firmly gripped Ivy’s wrist over the counter, stopping her busy work immediately. Ivy dropped the glass, flinching as it shattered on the floor. 

“You.”

Heart slamming within her chest, eyes wide, Ivy turned her head towards the low voice that shook her to her very soul. It was the man from before, the one who had not been applauding for Miss Harris. His emerald green eyes almost glowed as he stared at her with a hunger, no, a _lust_ that had never been meant for Ivy, but for the other ladies of the Red Rat.

“M-Me, sir...?” Ivy asked quietly, barely mustering the courage to look into the man’s eyes.

“Yes. I’ll be having _you_.” He repeated. Ivy shivered, attempting to steady her own voice.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you must have made a mistake. I’m just the bartender here, I’m not-”

“I know damn well what you are, and my answer still stands. I’ll be having you tonight.” His low voice turned into a menacing growl; it took everything within the bartender to not pull her arm away, lest she be beaten by this man.

Speaking of her arm, Ivy noticed the man’s gaze drifting down to the one he was holding. It was her prosthetic limb, the wooden one she had fashioned for herself years ago. The wood was still strong and sturdy, and thankfully not rotten. Ivy looked with fear and hope upon the man’s gaze; maybe he would let her go for having such a thing as a replacement for a limb?

“What is this upon your arm?” The man asked, lust parting to reveal hungry curiosity.

“It’s a prosthetic limb, Mister...?”

“Hyde. Edward Hyde.” Somehow the way he said his own name was just as chilling.

“Mister Hyde. Got me arm severed a while ago, it’s not something I-” Ivy’s dismissal of her injury was quickly interrupted by Hyde’s icy hand roughly grabbing her chin, tilting it upwards to match her eyes with his. The thumping in her heart grew harder by the second.

“How was it severed?” Hyde asked in his ever-present low growl of a voice. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”

Oh, that was _it_.

As much as this man scared her, Ivy wasn’t about to reveal private information that still haunted her to this very day. She squared her shoulders and stood up a little straighter, hoping the posture would get him to back off.

“That, sir, is none of your damn business.” She put on the most harsh voice her self-confidence could allow her, and said confidence started growing as Hyde’s eyes noticeably widened. She wrenched her elbow away and began to walk around the counter. “I don’t know where the hell you came from or who the hell you think you are, but I’ll say it once, and I won’t say it again...”

Ivy jabbed her finger into Hyde’s chest. Her glare bore into the other man’s without a trace of the fear she had before, uncaring of any rage he held at the moment. “I am not for sale.”

Hyde just grinned. “I fear you have made a grave mistake.” Ivy’s eyes widened in horror as the man grabbed the collar of her dirty button-up and pulled her close to him. There was no humor in his eyes anymore.

“No one refuses Hyde.” He growled before his lips harshly pressed into hers.


End file.
